The rays of sunlight that filtered through the partially drawn curtains on the window were the last straw that woke me up from the peaceful slumber I was in, making me sigh almost involuntarily as I thought with despair that the miniscule stain of hope that crossed my mind over and over last night until I fell asleep would be, once again, shattered in a million pieces that crumbled into my mind, making a permanent scar in my memories that would stop nagging me when the situation repeated itself, even if I knew beforehand that the results would be exactly the same as before.

To my surprise he was still in bed beside me and not awake reading one of the books that were scattered across my room as he waited until I decided to wake up to bid farewell in a way that didn't even sound as a goodbye because of his crude and detached choice of words, as I expected; and I found myself staring at him with a combination of curiosity and skepticism.

He looked untroubled, peaceful. States of harmony that were almost impossible to see when he was awake under that perfectly aligned mask he always wore and that I still found impossible to crack no matter how much I tried. His chest rose and fell in a soothing pattern, moving the bed sheets slightly with every breath he took. It was a pleasant change to see him like that; I wanted to believe that there was a side of him that was buried deep into that emotionless expression that nearly never changed, side where he could forget about all the troubles that pestered him restlessly and give him a well-deserved break from the havoc on his mind. But, it was just a childish thought that bordered on foolishness. That was the way he was, nothing could change that. This was just a momentary break before it all came back to life and that peaceful exterior got encapsulated inside him and replaced by a deadpan expression.

I furrowed my brows when I noticed that his silky white hair was covering his eyes; for some reason he despised his hair being like that. I thought his loathing was nonsensical but still, I drew my hand out from the warm comfort under the covers to slick it back with my fingers. His hand reached out and griped my wrist tightly as his eyes snapped open to glare at me with an intensity that made me quiver as I tried to pry his painful grasp from my limb. He gave it a quick and painful squeeze in reflex before releasing it flatly; his icy eyes still in a potent glare that I wanted to believe was starting to soften, making me look away in resentment and embarrassment for even thinking that I would get away with it.
I didn't apologize though, neither did he. There was no need for an insincere exchange of words of that nature.

I slipped out of bed and picked up the discarded clothes scattered across the room silently, putting them on as I found them with dull animosity. He was already dressed, the only thing missing from his body was his signature blue coat that was neatly folded on the chair next to the window.

"I'm surprised you were still asleep when I woke up."

He shifted his eyes from the window pane to me wordlessly. When I didn't got an immediate answer I thought that he had decided to ignore me completely until his voice reached my ears in that rich and elegant tone of his that reminded me of the blade he always carried with him: lethal, but appealing enough to find yourself helplessly drawn towards it. "This will be the first and last time an occurrence of this type will ensue."

"I wouldn't mind if this happened again," I said and turned to face him completely, raising an eyebrow when I found out he had changed his position. I didn't even hear him get off the bed and walk over to the chair. He already had his coat on, an indubitable sign that he was about to depart. "I truly enjoy your company, Vergil."

We always kept each other at arm's length.
He didn't want me close yet refused to let me go completely. Every once in a while he would let out small tidbits of information, whether it was about him, places he had visited or people he had met there was always a certain pattern: he deserted any kind of relationship, not even family ties were safe to face the same fate.

I, on the other hand, was careful with the bonds I created but still found myself wanting to get away from him at the same time my mind ached for his presence. I've seen the things he could do; how he could slice a body in pieces with his katana and a flick of his wrist in a movement so mesmerizing and graceful that, even though the scene was gruesome and it was morbid to be so fascinated with death, I couldn't bring myself to peel my eyes away from it, from him.

I was a leverage, a mere reminder of the influence he had on me and everyone else. Power was important for him, even more than his well-being; and when he felt that power slipping away from his grasp he came here to reinforce himself, because he knew that no matter what he did I would always be at his mercy.

And as soon as that he recovered from that, he left.

Although his departures were bitter, he left something behind: an ancient book or scroll that served the purpose of a small memento. When he started to leave those curious objects I couldn't understand the meaning behind his actions, but as time passed on I learned that it was his own way of showing me that, somehow, I was worthy of his presence.

"I cannot stay any longer; perhaps next time would be more appropriate." He replied as he walked past me with an elegant grace that never seized to amaze me. I pretended to ignore the small red book on the nightstand that wasn't there the night before as I stared at his retreating back that soon disappeared into the corridor.

It was impossible to know when he would be back, or if he would be back at all.

But at the time, that didn't matter.

If he wanted to, he could make his words feel even worse that the fatal blows he delivered to his enemies minus the physical pain, I would know. I'm not sure if he entirely realized that the simple statement he made was enough to ignite my naïve hope.

He probably did.

And for now, I was content living in a mirage of possible delusion.


This was originally meant to be a one shot, but I've decided to add another chapter to culminate it. I'll do my best and will try to upload it soon.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.